


Nightmare

by Cirilla Godefroy (Cumbersnatched)



Series: The Vampire of Kaer Morhen [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, Cuddling, Fixing Toys, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Mending Hearts, Nightmare, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 06:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cumbersnatched/pseuds/Cirilla%20Godefroy
Summary: Geralt has a nightmare about his past and seeks out an unlikely person to sooth his mind to sleep.





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings:  
This is why Geralt hates portals  
Cuddles  
If you read this as a stand alone, it might be kind of creepy but its not I swear lol

_Clenching his Mother’s hand, he looked around worriedly. She would not tell him where they were_ _going. Only that to get there, they would need to go through ‘space’ using a portal. He was not sure what ‘space’ meant, but he knew what a portal was. He’d seen his Mother use them a number of times! Though usually by herself. They looked really neat when she summoned them—though a bit scary too._

_This time, he would be going with her, yet he was rooted to the spot staring at the giant swirling black hole surrounded by a ring of fire._

_“You want me to jump into that?”_

_“Yes. You’ve seen me do it a number of times, surely. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”_

_He worried his lip for the umpteenth time and looked up at her. “Why are we going again?”_

_“I have some business to attend to and I need to make sure you’re kept safe. I’ll be back to get you later.” Her voice was oddly detached._

_But that didn’t make any sense. She’s left him alone before…_

_“C’mon. They’re waiting. Are you going to make me carry you and embarrass me?”_

_He stared down the portal and drew a shuddering breath. He could do this!_

_“I’m ready Mom.”_

_“Alright, hold tight little one. Whatever you do, do not let go of my hand!”_

_He nodded then, and they stepped into the portal together._

_—Darkness engulfed him and he felt compressed to a pin point while at the same time stretched to_

_the ends of the world. He squeezed his hand—her hand, but couldn’t feel if either were even there!_

_ He tried to yell, to scream for his Mother, but no sound came out. _

_ Yet he continued to swirl, his body pulsing, compressing, and stretching, his equilibrium thrown into chaos—_

_After what seemed like an eternity the world brightened, blinding him. He cried out as he fell and skinned his hands and banged his knee on a cobblestone path. The warmth that cradled his hand disappeared, and before he could even gather himself there was another bright flash of portal light and she was gone._

_He reeled, his body wavering and stomach clenching as he fought back the urge to heave. Breathing hard and making sad, confused little noises, he looked up. An old man with two swords on his back stood before him, his hair and beard red with wisps of grey and yellow cat eyes. He stood with his arms crossed, and looked down on him with a hint of sadness._

_“Hello young pup. Welcome to Kaer Morhen.”_

Geralt’s body jerked awake as he came out of his nightmare, and he shuddered. It was one that he’d had before. A memory he wished he could forget but always came back when he thought maybe he’d finally forgotten about it. Tear’s stained his cheeks and the bed sheets were tangled about his legs. His heart raced as if he’d just ran three miles without stopping and he felt clammy. His clothes were soaked with sweat.

He could hear Eskel snoring beneath him, on the bottom bunk in the little room they shared. The room was hardly big enough for the bunk bed, let alone two growing boys. They’d trained hard the previous day and as he sat up, the bruises he’d earned made their existence known. So it didn’t surprise him then that he’d had a nightmare. They were often triggered by stress, something he experienced on a daily bases at Kaer Morhen.

If it wasn’t Clovis, it was the Master’s. If it wasn’t the Masters, it was Eskel egging him on trying to get him to focus, to do better—constantly picking on him when he didn’t get things right.

He knew Eskel meant the best though…Eskel wasn’t like Clovis. Eskel wasn’t mean…

Geralt gave his fixed up Roach doll a fond squeeze. Embarrassingly enough he’d been hugging the thing to his chest in his sleep. So much for his ‘witcher’s don’t need toys’ bravado…It helped him sleep…usually…

He was just glad it was a small two boy room. Eskel never said anything about it. Eskel never talked about a lot of things.

Like his frequent visits to the vampire, Dettlaff, which is where he planned on going right then. He felt lonely after dreaming about his Mother and his mind whirled with unanswered questions...Why would she abandon him? She said she would come back, but never did. She’d left him alone in this weird place, hoping that one day she’d return. Did he do something wrong? Did she not love him? What happened to his Father?

Two years had passed since that day. He was five at the time. Geralt used to miss her, but now he just felt lonely.

Carefully, he snuck down the bunk ladder, making sure to keep his toes light so that it wouldn’t creak. He could have woken Eskel rather than going to Dettlaff, but talking about the past was kind of taboo between trainees and witchers. Nobody talked about their past. It didn’t matter. And if he tried, Eskel would just scowl and clam up, ignoring him. Geralt understood. Eskel had his memories too.

So instead, he creeped his way to the north tower, where Dettlaff lay sleeping. The chamber was dark, the hearth was cold. A half-moon glowed through the windows and a beam highlighted where the vampire slept in his bed.

Geralt slipped inside with barely a creak of the door, and his bare feet fell silent on the carpets and rugs. He’d done this before. The first time, his heart had been in his throat, fearing that he’d be turned away or made fun of. But the vampire just woke up and listened, curious, while he’d explained why he was there.

There was recognition in Dettlaff’s eyes then as he considered, then flipped back the covers and patted his bed. “I understand, young pup. Come. You must rest.”

And he did.

Today was no different. He’d barely touched the vampire’s shoulder before cold blue eyes opened to gaze at him. Geralt felt unsure, as always, even though this wasn’t new to them. He was seven—Nightmares were a thing adults dealt with all the time. He needed to deal with them too. But he could later. He had time…and maybe by then…Maybe they’d go away?

“Another nightmare, young pup?” The vampire asked, his voice empathetic.

“Yeah…” He worried his lip self-consciously. If Eskel knew he was here for this…he’d never live it down…he’d be shuffled to bottom rank of their cohort in two seconds…

“About?”

“Mom…” he mumbled and looked down at the ground. This was the third time this month he’d dreamt about her. Though sometimes it was just the portal…

He shuddered at the thought.

Blue eyes softened, along with Dettlaff’s expression. “Then get to it pup, you need to rest.”

Dettlaff flipped back the covers and patted the mattress. Geralt didn’t need to be told twice and immediately snuggled up into his usual spot against the vampire’s chest.

“Do you need a sleeping draught this time? Or an herbal oil?” The vampire raised himself up on an elbow to look down at him questioningly.

Geralt inhaled and heaved out a heavy sigh. “No, I’m okay.”

“If you change your mind, please tell me before you drift off.” Dettlaff’s voice was soft and soothing as strong arms wrapped around Geralt, holding him protectively.

The warmth between them was already lulling him into a relaxed state, along with the aroma he’d come to associate with Dettlaff and his work shop. It was just soothing.

“Thank you Detty, for letting me sleep with you,” he said as he curled into the vampire and closed his eyes.

“Friend’s help friends, young pup. Never forget.” A clawed hand gently sifted through his hair, lulling him to sleep.

“Mhm…I promise Detty,” he mumbled, swearing to himself too that he’d always remember the kindness Dettlaff showed him, and that he would pay it forward eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you like! I sat down and chapter planned today. Roughly 23 for this first series, followed by something more! :)
> 
> Random witcher fact: His name wasn't Geralt before he came to Kaer Morhen (according to Wiki) so in the nightmare there is no name mentioned.


End file.
